Category: Art Journey

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A message in a…

Posted on by sue boardman

Nope! Not a bottle.

A plant!

Once upon a time… yesterday, to be exact, I set out on a journey. I took along two paintings. The one you see above, and this one:

I took paper and markers and and books.

I took a head full of plans. You see, I was leading a workshop in Intentional Creativity®

This seemed like a familiar journey. I was ready!

An odd thing happened along the the way…

I arrived – about 3 miles from my house – in a new world!

Okay, it wasn’t the first time I’d been there. It was just the first time I’d been one of the team!

This world was inhabited by dear people who speak languages I’m only beginning to grasp.

The language of anthroposophic medicine and the language of Waldorf education.

Each of them takes in to account, in their own contexts, whole human beings!

There’s more, if you look it up, not all complimentary, but that can be said of basically everything that doesn’t fit the boxes in our brains!

We sang.

We moved. Well, each in our own ways.

We did some right/left brain processing using the beginnings of a painting process known as Insight.

But, just before that, we looked at plants.

Now, allowing for the fact that this was a whole new adventure for me, filled with ways of noticing and wondering I had not encountered before, I’ll give you the bits that I brought home.

First, this method of observing plants comes from the work of Goethe – yep! that one! – who was, in addition to being a poet and philosopher, quite the student of botany, anatomy, and color.

This involved, as you might imagine, a trip outside!

It involved lots of looking. A bit of touching for those able to get close enough to the plants. And, after lots of looking, it involved some describing and drawing.

And yes, that’s Visual – Auditory/Digital – and Kinesthetic processing!

The thing that struck me most about this adventure into previously unknown world views was the message which came to me.

But first, a bit of imagining, if you would.

A tiny, gravel-y patch of dirt between two urban concrete parking lots. Quite a colony of plants you might consider to be weeds if you were raised in the land of suburban lawns.

(Here we’re going to depart from Goethe’s process just a bit and allow for some nouns in our description because you haven’t seen the specific plants from our adventure and deserve a bit of extra help!)

Large rosettes of moist, rounded, leathery green leaves, close to the ground. Thin, spiky, stem-ish bits reaching for the sky. Seed heads at the top of most. Loosely dandelion-like, but considerably smaller.

Oh… and the message I heard!

Delicate, vulnerable hope blown by the wind of the Spirit.

If you’ve known me for a bit, you’ve already realized that there are virtual context brackets around that message!

Mass shootings. January 6th attempted coup hearings. The war in Ukraine. Huge, intentional threats to civil rights… in the USA.

Delicate, vulnerable hope blown by the wind of the Spirit.

And people like you and me, rooted not in a lush, orderly garden, but right in the midst of this world, with the opportunity to be hope.

I’m in! Are you???

ps… need a bit of help finding or navigating your path? Your Epic SuperPower Path Survey

pps… the plant? Plantains. “Weeds” to many of us, which grow in my garden close to the dandelions (aka vegetables!) Being their part of a delicate eco-system which supports all life. I’m just sayin’!

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A lifetime of shopping & still learning!

Posted on by sue boardman

Family legend holds that, when I was just over a year old, I was in a store with my mom when I experienced – shall we say – a bit of a diaper disfunction.

Mom took the obvious action and headed for the door, wanting to get out of a perceived horrifying situation.

I, on the other hand, early language junkie that I was, screamed, “I wanna shop!” the whole way to the parking lot.

And, yes, I’ve had some more practice shopping along the way!

Between my orthopedic challenges and the whole pandemic thing, I’ve gotten pretty proficient at the push buttons-wait for packages model of procurement, despite my growing questions about the whole bigger picture behind some such enterprises.

This week, that plan kind of fell apart.

You see, I need chairs. Two of them.

And not just any chairs will do!

I have limited space and a whole lot of things to accomplish. Comfort and function are tied for first place. Which is not a bad place to start.

So, flexible chairs for tea and coaching clients of the talking sort. Also the drawing and painting sort.

Sturdy. Resistant to dog hair and drool. Easy to re-arrange. You get the drift. I even made a list!

And I hunted online. A lot. With very little progress. Frankly, I was getting pretty tired when Grandmother Moon volunteered some guidance.

So, yesterday, I climbed out of bed full of the radical notion that I needed whole-person shopping and that was going to require actual in-person shopping!

My options were limited, for back and shoulder reasons, to places that did not involve the big road. Read that, a favorite neighborhood wonderland! And so I set out with my walking stick and fav sneakers and my magic denim vest/purse complete with a measuring tape, the requisite political buttons and my fabulous new bizness cards!

The Inner Critic hitched a ride!

Wrong color! Too much money! There’s only one! Too square!

You’ve probably had similar conversations along the way…

Blessedly, the Inner Critic, who means well but is terribly afraid of trying new things, was distracted by a booth full of old books, and I welcomed the Muse into the adventure.

She tends way more in the direction of What did you learn?

Over the next hour, my responses included: Too low! Too squishy! Too hard to get out of! Too itchy! And, to make our Inner Critic team member feel valued, lots of Wrong color!

Frankly, I felt a whole lot like Snow White, in the place where nothing was just right!

And I was learning a lot!

So, exhausted, but fairly pleased with myself, we headed home with a particular chair calling to me from virtual land.

The Legendary Husband, who tries to be a bridge between the Muse and the Inner Critic, suggested maybe – just maybe – ordering only one and trying it out.

It wasn’t the craziest idea I’ve ever heard!

So, we wait. (It’s on the way!)

The Inner Critic has agreed to take a couple of days off, given the fact that I did such a good job with the measuring tape!

The Muse just winks at me, with that little half-grin which implies we’ve got this.

I hope so! At the very least, we’ve avoided a whole lot of things that wouldn’t have worked which is a lot like using my SuperPowers for good!

And, just in case you have things on your list, like being and doing and mattering, and could use some help along the way…

Go here and do this!

(My Inner Critic will keep yours entertained while you actually do a new thing!)

ps… happy birthday, Mom. We miss you!

pps… in honor of my girls and their graduating adventures, a special deal on my favorite mug… which is a decidedly SuperPower kind of thing! Just click here and the elves will automatically adjust the price in your basket!

ppps… the lovely lady in the painting, who sees in several ways, is a glimpse of the Muse!

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A view from the SuperPower Path…

Posted on by sue boardman

Once upon a time, about 15 years ago, I was sitting in my living room with a group of amazing women, celebrating a magical workshop of creative giving we’d just led. And, at the risk of seeming, well, nostalgic, we were singing old summer camp songs. Mostly Peter, Paul & Mary.

Suddenly, the phone rang. I ducked out to answer. Little did I know, my life was about to change in a way that still amazes me every day.

My son was calling from Scotland. We did the hiya howya bit for a minute and then I heard this: Mama, you’re going to be a grandmother!

Witnesses would attest that I said nothing but Wow! for the next several minutes, followed by a flood of tears. I was utterly overwhelmed by the realization that my whole world had just become different. Bigger. Brighter.

The next thing I noticed, after a few more days of Wow, were the voices of teachers in my head. The two most insistent, oddly, both named Steve.

Stephen Covey was chattering about his model to gauge how to prioritize choices in life.

And H. Stephen Glenn sounded as close to preaching as he ever got with the core of his gospel… what our kids most desperately need from us.

Kind of oddly, for a person with advanced degrees in the way we’ve always done it, I don’t much care if this next ah-hah sounds bizarre. (It kind of felt bizarre at the time!) It is, simply, the truth.

I was born to be a grandmother! A Fiercely Compassionate Grandmother.

Not simply in the genetic sense, but in the universal sense. To act on the things which once felt theoretically important, but had suddenly begun to feel urgent, with a little one of my own on the way.

To be one of those five adults for as many people as possible, because kids aren’t the only ones who need them.

Especially these days.

And, yes, I’ve left an intentional bit of mystery in this tale, because curiosity is our best state for learning new things and making the changes we most long for.

I will come clean about my dream…

That we ALL claim our SuperPowers and use them for good!

Preferably now!

So, if you’re ready for some help along the way, I’ll be your Fiercely Compassionate Fairy Grandmother, and help you do just that!

Curious about where your path leads and what it all means, especially in these days???

Good!

Go here and do this!

We’ll start with your dream and add a lifetime of wisdom, a good bit of creativity (Yes, you are!) and a whole boatload of Big Why?

We’ll turn that into a path you can see and feel.

And, we’ll add a sprinkling of intentional  magic to keep you on the road, believing.

We’ve got this!

ps… know some likeminded wise women? Please share! sueboardman.com/superpowerpath/

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Of creating me, and art along the way!

Posted on by sue boardman

Creating is exhilarating. It’s terrifying. It’s exhausting. It’s empowering. And, it’s more than all of that.

One of my paintings proclaims, In the image of the Divine, I create.

A more recent one is bold enough to edit that a bit and assert that, In partnership with the Divine, we create.

I’ve been hanging, lately, even more in the deep waters of creating. It feels like all the different layers are happening at once.

From the Big Why? which is a lot like inspiration, through whatever combination of words and images work in any given step, to the whole different processing pattern involved in all the tech-y magic of setting things free in our world… it feels like all the feels at once.

Then there’s the bit about deadlines which I prefer to think of as target dates, though the academic and the journalist who lurk inside me are not convinced!

Monday night was such an event. WIP Wednesday come early!

A WordPress page. Not War and Peace by any means, but a big project for me nonetheless. And one I care deeply about.

The easy part was basically done when I dove in again. By that I mean the copy.

That left details like fancy boxes around this piece or that. Links to things which didn’t all exist yet. And all the things my Muse kept adding.

Then, it all disappeared. The whole page. Really!

When I started breathing again, I tried to re-open the page from the beginning, causing the elves to send a terse message along the lines of…

This item has been deleted!

Trust me when I tell you that I had been perfectly fine with not knowing this was a possibility!

It took a while longer for the breathing to begin again. I was utterly clueless… and figuratively, if not literally, desperate.

My go-to persons to ask were otherwise engaged, so I summoned my inner reasonably current self and googled how do I… on my phone.

The third suggestion which appeared was composed of words I actually understood, so I started there.

It worked!!!

I got my page back and I learned two new things along the way.

  • HOW to get my page back.
  • I CAN DO THIS!

In and of themselves, these are really cool things to learn, in case – you know – it happens again.

Beyond that, though, there’s better news.

You see, what I was working on was something which matters a great deal to me and to the way I feel called to matter in this world, now.

So, why am I telling you all this?

Not because I was pretty pleased with myself, though I was. Not even because I learned some new things, which I love.

Instead, I’m putting this on the line because it’s a decent example of one of my favorite things… modeling.

The journey in which we let others see us grow and learn instead of hiding or seeming, however unintentionally, to shame them and blame them for not knowing. For having questions. For trying desperately to protect themselves from the often scary adventure of trying.

Granted, a recipe for something yummy and soothing would have been easier and I might have chosen that except, well, I’ve been watching the news.

I am convinced that this is a time of great change in the world my girls are growing up in and it seems to me that it’s going to take all the people who want the future to work for more and more of us to get through this.

So, I have a question. A question for you!

What do you want enough to head out into the forest of more-to-learn, of challenges like tech issues and visibility and mattering?

I really want to know.

And I can help. Stay tuned…

ps… the Muse has decided the studio needs some work to make space for our new ways of mattering. (It may take a few more Wednesdays!)

pps… if you haven’t joined the blog list yet, now would be a great time, with all the newness afoot. Just take a deep breath. Pretend the pop-up thingy isn’t annoying. And sign up! You are welcome, here!

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Etymology Safari!

Posted on by sue boardman

As you may have noticed, I have a thing for words.

Where they come from. What they mean. How they change over time.

For example, the word celebrate.

It comes from the Latin for frequented or honored.

And, it’s changing, even in this moment!

If your email is anything like mine, you’ve already noticed! Noticed how we, in the USA, are celebrating sales on this long weekend, instead of (or perhaps more comfortably than) the notion of Memorial Day many of us grew up with.

(Before we go on, I’m going to own up to the reality that my right hand and left shoulder are engaged in battles of their own and typing is hard… so, a bit of cut and paste from folks who’ve already told these stories well!)

You may be surprised, as I was, that…

When Charleston fell and Confederate troops evacuated the badly damaged city, those freed from enslavement remained. One of the first things those emancipated men and women did was to give the fallen Union prisoners a proper burial. They exhumed the mass grave and reinterred the bodies in a new cemetery with a tall whitewashed fence inscribed with the words: “Martyrs of the Race Course.”

Learn more, here...

And the beginning of a letter, Friday, from my friends at the Southern Poverty Law Center.

Set on a pastoral landscape at the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains outside Orange, Virginia, Montpelier, is among the country’s premier historic plantation sites. It was the home of James Madison, the so-called father of the U.S. Constitution and the nation’s fourth president. It was also “home” to 300 enslaved people during Madison’s time, and their descendants are now boldly asserting the right to tell their stories.

More of this story…

All of this… and more… in context of another school shooting. This one in Uvalde, Texas. Nineteen elementary school students and two of their teachers, gone, needlessly.

Here’s the bottom line for me… war is a tragedy that involves weapons. In the best of times, a tragedy that results in more peace and justice for more people.

School should not be such a battlefield. And we must honor all our fallen by trying to fix the systems that permit ever-increasing gun violence.

The way forward is not NRA rallies on Memorial Day Weekend. It’s many, many more voices at the table. It’s common sense gun laws instead of the kind grudgingly tolerated by those getting rich off gun sales.

It’s teaching our children better. And doing everything we can to keep them alive long enough to understand.

Yes, I have, as the old saying goes, quit preachin’ and gone to meddlin’. And I’m not going to apologize.

The way that some of us think we’ve always done it isn’t working.

So, if this matters to you, click the links (above) and read more of the stories. Risk a bigger perspective.

Perhaps, at its heart, that’s the way to celebrate Memorial Day. To make space for more of the stories. Even the ones that don’t seem to get along so well.

If you live in Georgia… there’s a run-off election for the Democratic Nominee for Secretary of State on June 21. You know what to do.

In an episode of The West Wing, a top brass kind of walk-on character, named Adamley, said this to Leo McGarry:

All wars are crimes.

Yes. That’s hard for many of us to hear.

On this day, though, let’s choose, loudly, to truly honor those who have fallen throughout history – our ancestors and partners and neighbors and children – and all those who grieve, by voting for change. By working to end more tragic crimes.

What’s happening all around us isn’t working.

ps… season 3, episode 6!

pps… what if you could adopt an intentional image of What the World Needs Now , literally formed of dots for peace??? You can! An original painting… at a special discount, meant to call in powerful new energy. The elves will hook you right up. Just add her to your basket and the numbers will get smaller! (There’s only one!!!)

Art JourneyContemplationsGrandmothers

Of context and tears and questions…

Posted on by sue boardman

Once upon a time, according to the way-back machine, a baby boy was born. (Not that one!) It was just after midnight on January 1, 1958 in St. Paul, Minnesota.

As was the tradition in that particular place and time, the newspaper published the big event… you know, first baby of the New Year. Lots of applause…

This particular little guy was named Sputnik Eisenhower Jones. Really!

Now you may, quite reasonably, be wondering why I know this story and/or why I’m telling it now.

Glad you asked!

I know this story because my mom was obsessed with baby names, looking forward, as she was, to my own birth which was about 7 weeks into the future.

She was aghast that parents would saddle a defenseless little one with such a name.

She also used to tell me, when I was frustrated by people calling me Susie – which does not happen anymore!!! – that I should just be glad she hadn’t named me Sputnik Eisenhower Jones.

And I was.

Now, I know more! Specifically about the impact of context on our lives and choices.

Eisenhower was midway through his two-term presidency.

He signed the Civil Rights act of 1957 and sent Army troops to enforce federal court orders, integrating schools in Little Rock, Arkansas. And he promoted the establishment of strong science education via the National Defense Education Act.

Meanwhile, Russia launched the first artificial Earth satellite in October of 1957. It’s name was, indeed, Sputnik!

A huge scientific breakthrough with obvious questions for the future.

And there, on January 1, 1958… a baby boy with a serious handful of a name in a family, likely not far in generations from the sharecropping South, clearly invested in Civil Rights.

Somehow, all these years later, that little guy – whom I hope somebody had the sense to call Nick, at least during Junior High – is part of my story. Of my understanding of how we relate to the world.

If you’ve been hanging around a while, you’ve probably noticed that I like questions a lot, so, two questions, in this context-laden primary election season in the USA…

How will you use the context of this moment to understand your place in the world?

And how will you use that understanding to shape your choices?

Just in case you’re wondering… those questions work wherever you live! And they are even more urgent while school children are being shot. Again.

So, how will we ALL use that understanding to shape our choices?

I’m really hoping you’ll leave a comment, or email me, and let me know what you think. Or wonder… suesvoice@gmail.com

ps… in the irony abounds department, Eisenhower was a Republican!

pps… hunting inspiration? Field Trip! FierceArtWithHeart (able to choose tanks still at cost!) and lots of cool art, mugs, and things of wonder!

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Growing!

Posted on by sue boardman

At our house it was a kitchen door jam. The one with the penciled height marks.

From the day I started 7th grade until the day I started 8th grade, I grew 7 inches!

My sister “may have” thought I was showing off.

My mother muttered about a plot to keep her letting down hems and buying new shoes.

I thought it was hard work.

I ached. A lot.

I got teased at school. Mostly for being taller than the boys, which was a big deal back then.

And I felt even less coordinated than usual, which I never imagined was possible.

All of this along with the hormonal initiations that happen in those years.

It seemed more than a bit much!

In the last few weeks, I’ve been thinking a lot about the other kind of growing.

The kind where we become conscious of our filters… of what they’re letting in and keeping out.

The kind where we realize that with consciousness comes the ability to edit. With intention.

And, as you might suspect, I’m hatching. A lot!

Tonight, though, it was time out from hatching as I visited, virtually, with 2 old friends.

Each of them facing, with differing details, a breast cancer diagnosis.

Some of the growing I’ve done along the way came in handy.

In both cases, my long acquaintance with the powerful guided imagery work of Belleruth Naparstek.

An occasion, both urgent and important, to fire up the bone broth cauldron, complete with organic herbs growing in our garden. And bay leaves.

And, gladly, a copy of a prayer I created during my Color of Woman® training. A prayer a bit outside the usual for the tribe that raised me.

Then, a new project for yet more growing.

One of my friends has requested a liturgy for saying goodbye to her breast, so I have some intentional writing to do.

These dear hearts are not, of course, the only sisters facing such journeys and so it seems time for prayer dots. Lots and lots of those, while the broth magic happens.

May growing – all of our growing – be both blessed and a blessing for those along the way.

And so it is.

ps… Click here for Belleruth’s guided imagery materials.

pps… this is “my” Prayer for Fiercely Compassionate Grandmother/elders in Difficult Days, with help from Dr. E.

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